The Colored Keys
by a.fanfare.for.elephants
Summary: Hayton Hancock is a straight-A student who slips through the cracks. No one bullies him, but no one pays attention to him either. He is just… there. His world is as colorful as his social life- non existent and dead. But when he hears the sound of a haunting melody, it ignites a spark within him and changes his world forever. Modern AU.
1. A Flash of Color

The bell rang, signalling the end of the day. Hayton Hancock sighed as he nonchalantly slipped his binder into his backpack. He was relieved that the day was over, that he was able to go home and get a vacation from his school for a couple of days.

_Actually, no._ He got out and rechecked his planner of assignments he had to do over the weekend. Inwardly, he groaned.

_Crap, I almost forgot I have to write a report about ancient ruins, and I have to use a library book as a reference._ He sighed and rubbed his temple with his fingertips. He didn't particularly want to spend another minute in his high school, but he figured he had no choice. His library in town was too far to walk to, and he didn't have a car yet.

_Might as well get this over with. _Hayton slung his crossbody backpack over his shoulder and left the already emptied classroom. No one was waiting for him, no one wanted to text him to make weekend plans. In essence, no one cared about him. Did Hayton mind? He might have, if it wasn't for the black and white filter that had shrouded his vision since the seventh grade. Before then, he had friends. Now… he had himself. And he figured he was better off for it.

He walked the hallways heading down to the main floor where the library was. He did his best to block out those around him, the sounds of debate teams and tutoring assignments and random gossip being whispered through the mouths of immature girls. He kept his head down, determined to make it to the library and find a book as quickly and painlessly to his intellect as he could.

Then he heard it. A little ting of a sound, barely audible but still there. Hayton stopped in his tracks and listened for it once more. _**tingtingting TINGTINGTINGtingTing **_

Hayton recognized that sound, but he wasn't sure why. It intrigued him greatly, and before he knew what he was doing, he was walking avidly the other direction. As he heard the sounds more clearly, his anticipation grew and soon enough he had flung open the door to which the assailing noise was ringing from.

Something strange happened then, something that had never happened before. He felt his chest tighten and his throat began to constrict. And as he stared at this guy sitting at the piano, Hayton could have sworn he saw a flash of color.

Looking around, he realized he had barged into the music room. A place he had never gone to except for his short stint in mandatory choir. It was strange. Hayton had heard live music a couple of times, but never anything like this. This was passion. This was tragedy. This sound ringing from the keys that were being manipulated by this boy's hands were weaving a story of great sorrow. They were echoing his story.

Hayton looked at this boy more closely. He didn't seem to notice Hayton's rude intrusion. Or maybe he noticed but was too engrossed in his work to care. He was wearing a red sweatshirt and blue jeans, and had long black hair that tossed and turned with his torso as he played. He radiated a sort of fire, the kind of fire that consumes you until you care for nothing else. Hayton looked at this boy and realized he saw himself. Or, rather, who he wished to be.

After what seemed like hours, the music stopped. The boy's hands grew still, and the ringing was no more. After an awkward silence, the boy turned around to stare at Hayton. It was as if he was just noticing him standing there. Hayton observed his bright green eyes that didn't fail to replicate his obvious surprise.

"Hi… sorry, I didn't know anyone else was in here. Can I help you with something?"


	2. A Newfound Fascination

"Can I help you with something?" The boy was now facing Hayton on his bench, tilting his head in expectation.

"Um.. no, I mean, I was just walking to the library and I heard… I mean… No." Hayton looked down at the floor, suddenly fascinated with his shoes. Talking wasn't usually this awkward for him.

The boy stood up and smiled, sticking his hand at Haytons face. Hayton wrinkled his nose and looked up in surprise, his jaw slacking a little. It wasn't that he was unfamiliar with the custom of handshakes. But receiving one was foreign to him.

"My name's Timmy." Reluctantly, Hayton accepted the gesture and shook his hand.

"Hayton." He let go of Timmy's hand and walked over to the piano, softly touching a key.

"So…. Are you always in here?"

Timmy shrugged. "Not really. My piano at home needs to be tuned, so I decided to practice in here for a couple of days until it can be fixed."

"Oh." Hayton continued to stroke the keys, letting his mind be transported into the past. His mind began to dance around memories of different days. Back to when things were happier, back before… well, before _that_ happened.

"Do you play?"

"Huh?" Hayton snapped out of his walk down memory lane to realize Timmy had resumed his spot on the bench and was now looking expectantly at him.

"I asked if you played. I've never seen you around, so…"

"No. No, I don't. My aunt did though, once... " _Why did I just tell a complete stranger that? _Hayton grimaced slightly and shrugged, quick to change the subject.

"So, what was it you were just playing?"

"Oh, that was a bit of Chopin." Timmy chuckled a little bit, his eyes beginning to gloss over with excitement. "He's one of my favorites. I was playing his op. 25 Number 11 called Winter Wind."

Hayton nodded, and looked around him anxiously. He didn't know what time it was, but he realized he needed to get to the library before it closed.

_Crap, I hope it's not too late!_

"I, uh, need to get to the library now…" Hayton began to back away from Timmy and the music room.

"I need a book for a research project… great playing, though, you sounded good! Really good. Nice to meet you, Tomm- er, Timmy. Umm, well, bye!" Awkwardly, he spun on his heel and twice as avidly as before, marched down the hallway from which he came from, determined to not look back.

"Hmmm let's see… what chapter am I looking for?" Hayton was now sitting in his room, twiddling his blue sweater's hoodstrings in his fingers, a habit of concentration he had built throughout the years. Hayton didn't mind studying, but like everything else, it bored him.

Hayton sat there, his eyes glazed over the table of contents. After what seemed like an eternity, he shook his head and frowned. _Who am I kidding? Ancient ruins? How stupid. _He decided to take a break for the night, and set his book back into his bag.

A soft purr was heard from the living room. Chuckling to himself, Hayton wandered to the kitchen to be met with the cutest thing he had ever seen. A little grey ball of fuzz was pawing at his empty bowl, as if convinced he could make his food magically appear. Hayton smiled sweetly at it. His father had bought a kitten for the house a while back when he decided Hayton spent too much time alone, as if it would prevent insanity from plaguing him. Hayton had persistently asked for a puppy when he was younger, but the apartment they lived in couldn't support one. He had to settle with this ball of fur. But, surprisingly, he had grown to like the little goober.

At this point, the little furball was viciously attacking the bowl, treating it like a field mouse. Hayton laughed out loud and rushed over, scooping up the kitten in his hand. He pawed at the air a couple of times, then stopped to nibble and lick on Hayton's finger.

"Ouch...fuzzie, that… that _hurts_!"

Hayton set him down and opened the cupboard to get his food. Using one hand to scoop Fuzzie's food into his bowl, he used the other to swat away the overly eager and fiesty kitten.

"There you go, sillypants. Enjoy!" Hayton stood up and shook his head at Fuzzie, who was now chomping at his food as if he'd never eaten before.

He then turned to the kitchen, opening the fridge. He looked around, trying to feast his eyes on anything that looked appetizing. But per usual, nothing did. And as he had done countless nights before, Hayton shut the fridge and left the kitchen to saunter aimlessly back in his room, his stomach empty and his mind plagued with negative thoughts.

On Monday, Hayton wandered through his day again, aimless and determined to not draw attention to himself. The day ended in the usual way, Hayton was eager to leave the school and go home to Fuzzie. Something about it didn't feel right to him, though. Hayton couldn't quite figure it out, but he felt like something was missing. He had double checked his assignments and checked off his to-do lists, twice. Everything was organized and in place, just the way it was supposed to be. As Hayton meandered through the hallway to go home, he couldn't quite figure it out. He scratched his head, and stared at the cover of his Ancient Ruins book he was about to return.

_I didn't forget any important facts about the ruins of Machu Piccu, did I?_ Hayton sighed. _If I get a B on my project because I forgot something, I swear to Thor… _

Hayton glanced up quickly, and saw a flash of a familiar door. He paused for a moment, all previous thoughts diminishing. Once again, his feet found themselves walking towards where it shouldn't be. He noticed the door was cracked open, and as peeped inside, all was quiet.

He let out a sigh he didn't realize he'd had, and slowly stepped inside. His eyes swept the room, appreciating all the little details. His gaze stopped at the very thing that had led him here. The piano was an old, yet majestic looking, black upright. It was slanted slightly, the back angled towards the benches where the choir sat during rehearsals each day. Hayton vaguely remembered those days, although not fondly. He slowly approached the bench, and tentatively sat, staring at it, as if it could whisper secrets to him.

According to his father, music was once a big part of his family's livelihood. Every family gathering, there would be singing and music, and a family recital once a year for fun. Hayton vaguely remembered this as a child, but all that ended when he was four. It was music that had brought his family together, and it was music that had drove it apart. What exactly had happened when he was four, he didn't know. All he knew was live music was forbidden in the house. Hayton wasn't allowed to learn any instruments, being told that he should be doing something better with his time.

Hayton never fully understood what was so bad about music, and from what he had heard the other day, it was anything but a waste of time. Tentatively, he lifted a finger and plunked it onto a key, hearing a loud _**ting!**_ and saw a flash of color race across his fingertips. Hiccup began grinning like a loon (maybe his dad was right to worry about him?) but he didn't mind, he had just seen color! Once again, he plunked a finger down and saw it again. This time, he let out a chuckle.

Hayton had been diagnosed with clinical depression three years ago, and since that time, he hadn't been able to see any color in his world. Everything was black and white, and imitated the dead. Apparently, this was normal, according to the doctor he had seen. He was told not to expect to see anything differently. But this, this supposed taboo instrument, was granting him a small glimpse of life again.

"I thought you said you didn't play." Hayton spun around, his smile faded and his cheeks burning crimson. His heart was racing as if he had just gotten caught stealing. Timmy was standing there, smirking at him, apparently amused by Hayton's newfound fascination.

"Ummm.. I don't! I was just… umm… looking for..something, and.." Hayton babbled while fumbling over the bench and backing away from it. Timmy's smirk changed into a good natured laugh.

"It's ok!" He said, putting his hands up. "I was just coming in here to practice again- my piano is getting tuned today." Timmy walked over, and placed his music on the stand and sat down on the bench. He glanced over his shoulder, his piercing green eyes meeting Hayton's.

"You don't know how to play, do you? How would you feel about learning?"

As Hayton nodded shyly and assumed the spot next to Timmy, his heart was feeling something it hadn't in three years: hope.


	3. Lonely Shadows

**Thanks so much guys for the reviews, faves and follows! Already have gotten a lot more than expected…**

**Sorry it took so long to update… I have been busy with work, as well as doing a lot of practicing of my own. Also, sorry this chapter is short. But I figured it's better to update a short chapter than none at all.**

**This is my first ever fanfiction story. Not quite sure where I am going with this, just basically making it up as I go. Any plot suggestions would be greatly appreciated!**

**Oh, and yes, Timmy is Toothless :-) Haven't decided if or when I will be introducing other characters from the movie.**

**Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own HTTYD.**

Hayton closed the door to his house, to be greeted by Fuzzie.

"Hey, fuzzball. Did you miss me?" He picked him up and gave him a squeeze before setting him back down again. Fuzzie meowed and purred, shedding some fur on Hayton's jeans.

Hayton didn't notice, he was too excited about his first lesson with Timmy.

He had told Hayton he would copy some of his favorite music from classic composers for Hayton to listen to, as well as come up with a learning plan. This excited Timmy greatly, because he was planning on going to music school to study pedagogy (teaching music) and performance.

But for now, he was to study the makeshift clef charts Timmy had made for him. He had quickly sketched out the two staffs, as well as sketch out a mini picture of the piano keys and labeled on the piano what the notes were.

Hayton was grateful for this, but didn't know how he was supposed to practice. _I guess I will have to use the music room after school…_

Hayton smiled, and spent the night memorizing the charts Timmy had made, his enthusiasm eventually lulling him to sleep.

The next day, Hayton woke up with a slight spring in his step. For a moment, he was confused as to why his body was more energetic than normal. Had his doctor told him to expect that? He looked over to his backpack and noticed a piece of paper was tossed on top. His eyes lit up in recognition. Of course he was excited! And he was practicing with Timmy that day after school as well.

He walked out of his room and into the kitchen, his dad was fumbling with the espresso machine.

"Good morning, dad. I didn't think you would still be here."

"Im leaving in a minute, son. Just wanted a cup of espresso to go… "

"Ok, dad." Hayton grabbed a piece of toast and began to tap his foot as he slipped it into the toaster.

"Ummm, Hayton, are you.. feeling ok?"

"Sure, dad, why do you ask?"

Hayton's dad grabbed a tumblr and began pouring his espresso into it.

"Um, it's just I don't think I have ever seen you eat breakfast… or look so peppy first thing in the morning. It's not bad, son… I like it." He gave an encouraging smile to Hayton.

"Well, duty calls. See you later, son."

"Bye, dad."

His dad thought, as his silhouette exited the front door and landed on the porch, how his son seemed to be rather… perky this morning. And that wasn't a word he ever thought he would use to describe his son. Shrugging, he smiled and got into his car, hoping his son's lifted spirits would remain when he got back.

The day dragged on even longer than usual for Hayton. He didn't have any classes with Timmy, and they had opposite lunch times, so he couldn't ask him what he had planned for the lesson that day. All he could do was listen half heartedly to his lessons, and tap his foot restlessly. Of course, no one noticed how different he was acting, since no one bothered to notice him at all. Which brought his thoughts back to Timmy. He almost hoped that they could become friends through all this….

Or not.

Hayton was nervous about the idea of friendship. Ever since his depression began, his ability to communicate and to open up to other people diminished. And so did his silhouette, until he became nothing but a shadow dancing lonely on the walls, invisible and hopelessly alone. How was it then that he could ever expect anyone to want to befriend him? Surely Timmy was using his apparent interest in music to help his teaching skills for his college resume. Any day now, he would be asking Hayton for a referral of some kind, a way to prove he had experience transforming hapless and unfortunately musicless individuals by infusing a fire of passion inside of them. Surely, that must be the reason. Hayton faltered for a minute and then decided he didn't mind either way. Even if Timmy was just using him, Hayton couldn't deny the fact that music was his only way of seeing light and color in his life, and he wasn't about to give that up.

Determined to see this through, he wasn't about to let his internal monologue of doubt keep him from approaching the now familiar door that afternoon. He heard the faint tune of a melody being played from inside. He knew Timmy was in there, waiting for him. He smiled because he understood that even if this didn't last, at least it was real for today. And for today, he could allow himself to fall a little more in love with the music he wasn't allowed to hear, and perhaps, with life itself.


	4. See You Tomorrow

Hayton took a deep breath, and with his heart pounding with anticipation and a pinch of fear, he opened the door. The door to the music room, and in turn, a crack in his guarded heart.

Timmy's music rang louder in his ears, and looking around, he saw the whole room burst with color. Although it lasted for a moment, Hayton couldn't contain a wide grin. Having heard the door open, Timmy, stopped his playing and turned around on his bench. Beside him was a folder, which he picked up with a smile and walked over to Hayton.

"Glad you could make it!" He said warmly.

"Don't we look happy today?" He teased. Hayton realized he still had his dopey grin plastered on his face. He blushed and glanced down at the now highly entertaining floor.

"I have come up with a couple of lesson plans for the next few weeks. Here." He gave Hayton a cd.

"Here is a recording of all the pieces you will be learning, as well as some of my favorite classical pieces. I find it more motivating and fun to learn when you can listen to an example of what you are learning." He smiled. "At least, it helped me a lot."

Hayton smiled gratefully, stuffing the cd in his bag. "Thank you."

"Yeah. So what do you say we get started?"

"Ok."

Hayton and Timmy had lessons every day after school for several weeks. Both were ecstatic with Hayton's progress. He had begun knowing nothing to now being able to read basic compositions, as well as discern between the major and minor scales and the inversions.

Unfortunately, Timmy's family was leaving for a week long vacation to Florida.

"Now remember, Hay. Just keep practicing every day until I get back."

"Don't worry, I will!" Timmy was walking towards the door as Hayton thought of something.

"Hey, Timmy. It's alright if I practice here after school, right? It's just… my dad doesn't know about this, and I don't exactly have a piano at home, soo…"

Timmy chuckled. "Yep! Feel free to come here after school like you would normally, it's fine! Not many people ever come in here anyways. They usually use the other music room on the third floor, for the orchestra."

Hayton's jaw dropped. "Wait, there's another music room? Why didn't I know about that?" _Where have I been the past year and a half if I didn't even know there was another music room?_

"It's ok, not many people know about it. It's normally a locked room during the day, so most people confuse it with an oversized janitor's closet or a Teachers Lounge. They try to keep it between orchestra members because one year, it became the it place for ditching class."

"People would ditch class? In the orchestra room?"

"You'd be surprised. There's a lot of room in there, so it was kind of easy to blend in. Anyways, got to go! See you in a week Hayton!"

"Yeah, ok. See ya!"

Hayton watched as Timmy left, then the silence engulfed him. Hayton got out his planner and began writing a mini practice schedule for himself. He couldn't wait for Timmy to get back so he could show him how much he had improved in the next week.

Filled with a newfound sense of confidence and determination, Hayton grabbed his bag and descended outside the music room. And as he shut the door behind him, he whispered:

_See you tomorrow, friend._


	5. The Valkyrie

**I am so sorry I haven't updated in so long! I could list a billion and one reasons for that, but the main reasons have been due to my health, lack of energy and lack of inspiration. I have been considerably plagued by writers block when it comes to this story, but I really like it and wanted to update for you guys. Sorry for the long wait, but I am going to try and make it up by updating more frequently and with longer chapters. This one isn't a winner, but I wanted to give you guys something. Thanks! And if you have any ideas for plot, please let me know! I want to thank everyone for reading this and having patience with me.**

**And as always, HTTYD does not and will never belong to me.**

Hayton spent the few days immersed in the music room after school. His father seemed a little suspicious, but Hayton made up an excuse on the fly. He told him he had joined the Math team. Now, he was never very good at telling lies but for some reason his father didn't press the issue. Instead he chose to accept his newfound "love for math" in the hope that it would be the key for Hayton to use to overcome his depression, and maybe, build a future around.

It was a Tuesday. Hayton was preoccupied in the music room, playing one of the medleys that Timmy had assigned to him to practice. It was tough going. Hayton would reluctantly admit, he felt lonely. Playing alone wasn't as fun. He missed Timmy's smile, his laugh, his encouragement. He missed the comradery that they had grown to share over the past few weeks. Not that he would ever admit that out loud. He was too afraid of the inevitable consequences if he did.

He was trying to get the piece perfect but kept slipping up on the same group of notes, unable to get the tempo right. He sighed and banged his head against the music stand. Why couldn't he play right? _Timmy will be so disappointed in me._

Hayton gazed at the piano for a moment, deep in thought. Then he reluctantly stood up and decided to call it a day. Swinging his backpack over his shoulder, Hayton left the room and entered the school library, his vision black and white again.

As he made his way through the main doors, the light pierced his eyes, temporarily blinding him. He leaned against the guardrail, shielding his face with one of his hands. He could hear the faint rustling of birds in the wind, swaying to their own rhythm of freedom and great expectations. Most of the birds were already down south for the winter, so it was rare to see a group of them like that so late in the season. The sun's glare finally ceased, so he was able to bid them a silent farewell. He wondered if he would be as depressed if he were a bird, capable of flying anywhere the wind could take him.

_**Hmmmmm….hmmm-hmm-hmmm hmmmmmmmmm**_

Hayton's thoughts were interrupted by another faint sound wafting down above him from the sky. Or rather, the school behind him. He noted the lovely and faint hummings of… something. He couldn't place what it was exactly, but like the piano, it sounded familiar. Before he realized, he had turned around and walked back to the school, heading up the staircase in pursuit of the sound. As it rang clearer, his chest reigned in tighter and tighter, squeezing all the breath he had left to climb. The staircase was flashing between color and grey, and finally he found himself pacing the third floor hallway.

The music reverberated from the second to the last room on the right hand side, the door peeping open. Almost secretive, but also inviting. A seductress. Hayton sensed a feeling of de ja vu as he found himself, once again, barging in on a student unannounced.

_**HMMMMMMMmmmmmHmmmmmm hmmm HMmmmmMMMmmhmMMMmmmmmmmmmhmhmhmhmhmh mmmmmmmmmmmmm**_

A girl stood in the middle of a room, in front of a music stand, music pouring out from… something.

_What is that she's playing?_ Hayton wondered.

_Oh! I got it! I think… I think it's a violin! This is so amazing, I have never seen anyone play a live violin before!_

_Wait… who is that girl? She looks…. dazzl.. I mean, familiar. But she's not in any of my classes…._

Hayton tried to place this girl in his memory. Clearly he would have seen her around, maybe in the halls or somewhere. But she seemed to be echoing a fond memory, pulling at the strings in his soul. Her music danced like lights across the ceiling and the walls, bouncing off brilliance and urgency. Her hair was golden, like the sun, and her eyes… they were a fiery shade of blue.

Hayton found himself so entranced by her music, so entranced by _her_, that he felt no shame or recognition at his obvious gawking. The girl finally stopped playing and put her instrument down, letting out a contented sigh. She looked up, and blushed, noticing the boy who was so awkwardly staring at her.

"Umm, this is a private practice…."

"Oh! OH!" Hayton was pulled out of the trance. "I am so so sooooo sorry! YouseeIhaveneverheardanyoneplaytheviolinbeforeandgoshyouwereSOOOgoodandsoinspiredandIreallyenjoyedyourperformanceandyouseemsofamiliarbutIdontrememberwhoyouareandIwastryingtofigureitoutand…." He inhaled a deep breath. "My names Hayton! What was your name?"

"Astley." She chuckled. "My name is Astley."

_Astley._ Hiccup thought. _What a pretty name._


	6. Realizations

**Hey guys! Thank you so much for the follows and reviews!**

**Wolfie-Dragon- Thank you for your feedback! I really like the plot suggestions you made, and I think I know how to incorporate a lot of your ideas into the story. I especially love the idea of making Gobber a doctor.**

**KillerGeishaYumi- The word vomit idea is definitely something that happens to me a lot when I am excited :D I'm happy that you found it funny and relatable. I have clinical depression myself, and while the world isn't exactly colorblind literally, it feels colorless because you don't feel like anything matters. During my happier spells, the colors of the world are definitely brighter! I just thought it would be a good analogy to use. And I appreciate your review, thank you!**

**I also want to say Happy Thanksgiving! I can't believe it's tomorrow, guys... and then Christmas is just around the corner! Agghhhh! Hope you guys enjoy! It's not a long update, but I wanted to give you guys something.**

"So… ummm…. I should probably be going now… so sorry to intrude…" Hayton stammered, fiddling with the strap on his backpack. He turned to leave, feeling a pit growing in his stomach.

"Wait!" Hayton turned around slowly as Astley pointed to a chair across from her music stand. "Sit. I need an honest opinion."

Reluctantly, Hayton walked over and sat himself on the chair. He felt himself stiffen, his breath constricting and a looming pit in his stomach. _Honest opinion? About what, exactly?_

"Listen, and give me your honest feedback."

"You.. might want to reconsider that… you see, I know practically nothing about music, so I have no right to judge you…. Not that I would judge you! But, well… you know…"

Astley smiled. "It's ok. I am not asking if the technique is good or not. Just listen and tell me how it makes you feel. I know you were just listening then…" She blushed slightly.

"But it's best to get feedback on a whole piece, rather than a part. An unbiased source like you is just what I need! You see, my family tells me I have immense talent for weaving stories with my music, but… they are my family, you know? It's not enough to just speak to _them_. I want to speak to the world." Her words were spoken with the type of power that could move mountains. Neither knew it at the time, but they were shifting the icy glaciers in Hayton's heart.

Astley picked up her instrument, and held the bow up for a moment, the way a conductor flicks his baton to signal the beginnings of a song. Then, the ceilings and walls erupted in colorful lights once more.

Hayton got home and was greeted by the mewings of Fuzzie. He purred in contented bliss, rubbing his face on his pants.

"Hey there, bucket of fur. Did you miss me?"

Fuzzie mewed and circled his way to his food dish.

"Silly goofball. Don't worry, I won't forget your supper."

Hayton chuckled, and dished out some food under his kitten's predatory gaze, even though he looked more adorable than ferocious. Fuzzie's grand gesture of attacking his food made Hayton's stomach grumble.

_Come to think of it, I only ate breakfast today. _

He opened the fridge and thoughtfully looked at it's contents. After standing there for a few minutes, feeling the icy breath of the fridge bit his nose, he closed the fridge with a sigh, and decided to skip supper that night. He wasn't really hungry anyways. _Maybe tomorrow morning something will pop out at me that looks good._

Hayton made his way upstairs and slung his backpack on the floor before resigning himself to his bed. He sighed, and ran through his head all that had happened that day. It wasn't a lot, but at the same time it was everything. He felt a surge of emotion like he had with Timmy. Hope. His heart had been bursting with it this afternoon.

He replayed in his mind the beautiful melodies that Astley had played for him. It was only a few moments, but it felt like an eternity. He could almost taste the tears and hear the laughter that the high and low notes generated. As he had said, he was inexperienced with music. But the way her playing made him feel was unlike anything he had ever heard before. It had made him feel refreshed and alive, like spring ladened grass. Her performance was different than Timmy's, for he could not see himself in Astley. Timmy reminded him of the reflection of the moon, a quiet and serene type of brilliance. And Astley reflected the sun. Fiery, passionate, questioning, compelling.

For the first time in a long time, Hayton couldn't help but consider himself lucky. He has met two amazing people in the last few weeks, and started seeing bits of color again. He couldn't wait to see what the future held for him. He sighed contentedly, and shut his eyes. Then, realization hit him. _Oh yeah, that's right. Timmy's coming back tomorrow._


	7. Friendly Skepticism

Hey guys! Just want to apologize for taking so long to update this. I've been struggling a lot with inspiration, plot ideas and my overall mood. I've been really worn out and exhausted. I won't make any more excuses, but I wanted to let you know I haven't forgotten about this, and intend to continue on to the best of my ability. Please be patient with me. And I appreciate any and all feedback, plot ideas, etc. Thanks guys, enjoy!

"Hayton!" Timmy squealed. It was the following day after school, and just like the day they had met, Timmy was at the piano bench playing away. As Hayton stumbled through the door, no longer any hesitation in his steps, Timmy was quick to rush over and engulf him in a huge hug.

"You… choking… can't… _breathe…."_

"Oh, sorry!" Timmy quickly stepped away. "I was just so excited to see you, is all. Did you get the chance to practice? How far did you get? Have any questions? I brought new material with me today!" Timmy's eyes lit up like a puppy who had just been told he was going outside. Hayton quickly cupped his hand over his mouth and turned away, his body beginning to shake.

"Hay?" Timmy asked softly. "Look, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make you feel bad…."

Hayton turned around with tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn't contain it anymore, he began to laugh hysterically. "BAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahaHAHAHAhahahahaHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHA!"

He felt like a fountain had been unstopped in the river of his heart, and flowing through it was joy. Unexplainable and unstoppable joy. Timmy had _missed_ him. Timmy was excited to see him. Timmy was undoubtedly, becoming more than just a teacher, and he was becoming more than just a project. For the first time in years, Hayton had found a friend. A friend who actually cared about him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hayton exclaimed, tears running down his face. "I.. look like a mess, don't I?"

"Well….. it's a good kind of mess, I guess." He handed him a tissue. "Here, I think you need this."

"Gee, thanks." Hayton looked away and blew his nose. Timmy was staring at him with questions in his eyes, but seemed hesitant to vocalize them. Feeling suddenly embarrassed, he quickly strode over to the piano bench and sat down.

"Well," he sniffled. "I have a lot of progress to show you. And lots of questions. Shall we begin?"

That night, Hayton waltzed in his house, a spring to his step. Having his newfound friend back in school was a huge relief for him, even if they hardly saw each other outside of their private lessons. And realizing that he was even capable of friendship anymore was a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. He felt a twinge of freedom.

"Fuzzzziiiieeeee, I'm HOMMMEEEEEEeeeeEEEE!" He sang, instinctively walking towards the cupboard to give him his supper.

Afterwards, he resumed his normal routine of checking the fridge for food. He stared at the contents for a minute. Finally, he settled on a piece of toast. It wasn't much, but Hayton didn't have a big appetite. Feeling content and full, he made his way to bed and fell asleep.

A few days later, Hayton found himself sitting in a black chair after school, facing his dad's best friend, Gobber.

"So, lad." He leaned back in his chair, trying to look professional. Hayton's dad was a bit concerned about him, so for a few months now Hayton had reluctantly agreed to see Gobber, in a counseling sense of the word. It was an awkward arrangement for both of them.

"How's…. ya'know, life?" He leaned forward intently.

"Is Snotlout still giving you a hard time?"

"Well…." Hayton scratched the back of his head nervously. Should he tell Gobber about Timmy? About Astley? It had only been a couple of weeks now, and Hayton didn't feel right telling him about it. However, he was just bursting to tell _someone._

"You see….. I've kinda been…. playing music."

"Wait… you've been WHAT?!"

"I know, I know! It just kinda happened, ok?"

Gobber sighed. "Does your dad know about this, lad?"

"I think you know the answer to that, Gobber. Of course he doesn't! And he can't find out, either."

"So, the whole math team thing….?"

"A lie."

"Huh." Gobber leaned back, looking confused. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Only a few weeks. And, Gobber, I have a _friend_ now. It's amazing! I feel amazing! Ok, maybe not amazing, but you know…. just…. better somehow. And I don't want to stop, ever! I don't understand what's so awful about learning to play music anyways, or why no one will tell me what's so evil about it."

Gobber found himself pleasantly surprised about Hayton's newfound passion and drive, something he'd never had much of. What he also felt, however, was skepticism. Why was he opening up like this? Out of the blue?

"Why did you decide to tell me this? Why now?"

"Well, you see, I didn't mean to fall in love with it but I did. I love music, Gobber, and I want to be able to pursue it on a professional level. And… I was hoping you would tell me what the whole secret is behind why I shouldn't pursue it."

"Well, ummm… Hay, you do know it's probably too late for that? I mean, don't you kinda have to start little for those kinds of careers? Now I'm not sayin' I know what I'm talking about but… Well, even if you COULD make a career out of it….. YER DAD'S GONNA BLOODY MURDER YA BEFORE IT EVER HAPPENS!"

"Ugh, I know! I shouldn't have let it get this far, but it did!" He hung his head.

"Gobber, what am I going to do?"

"Well, lad…. I can't believe I'm saying this, but… I think you should tell him…"

"Are you serious? You JUST SAID HE WOULD KILL ME!"

"True, true." He sighed. "Look, lad, the point of these sessions is to find something to help with your…. umm…. issues." He leaned forward, and sat his face on his hands.

"The truth is I ain't seen you this happy since… well, a few years ago. And if this music's what's doin' it, I don't see any point in stoppin' ya from doin' it. Lad, what if you keep this from him and he finds out from someone else? If he kills you now, he will maim yer body then."

Hayton shudders.

"Gee, thanks. Thanks for that lovely mental image. I think I'll be scarred for life."

Gobber leaned back in his chair, smiling. "Just happy to help."


	8. Melodious Inspiration

**Hey guys! Sorry it's taken a while to update this. I've had a lot on my plate lately, and the next few chapters will be updated slowly as well. I am in the middle of filming an indie film, which will take a lot of time, so please be patient. And thanks for the continued support, plot ideas, and suggestions! I really do appreciate them. This is my first fanfiction ever, so your friendly feedback means the world to me. **

"So, Hayton, I was wondering… do you want to come over to my house sometime?" Timmy peered at Hayton with hopeful eyes.

"You see, it's great to practice here…. But my piano at home works great too, and no one is there until late at night, so… we would have the house to ourselves and more time to practice."

"Yeah, you're right, that's a good idea." Hayton agreed. "Besides, the last thing I need is my dad checking up on me here randomly and finding me playing. It would kill him, but after he killed me first." Timmy chuckled. "Yeah, I still don't understand what's so bad about it. Your dad still won't tell you, huh?"

"Yeah, all he will say is it has something to do with my mom. And my family. But he won't go into any details. That's why your music fascinated me so much…. Growing up, I never really was allowed to listen to live music."

"That's just…. Sad. Super sad." Timmy sighed dramatically.

"I know, right?" Hayton smiled, and pulled his bag over his shoulder. Their lesson was over for the day, and they were getting ready to leave.

"Are you doing anything right now? You can come over…. That is if you want to! Please don't feel pressure on my account."

Hayton blushed and ducked his head. _I still can't believe he wants to be my friend…. And now I get to go over to his house? I haven't been over to a friend's house in…. Well, a long time now._

"Hay….? Are… are you ok? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, really, I just thought… but I know it was so sudden! I'm sorry, I didn't think…"

Hayton snapped out of his thoughts and noticed Timmy rambling.

He laughed. "Timmy, it's ok! Really, I was just… thinking of other things. I would love to come over… I think my dad's pulling an all nighter at work tonight."

"Oh, ok… what does he do again?"

"He's uh, an attorney."

"Cool!" Timmy and Hay were walking out the door, when Timmy paused.

"Wait…. I just realized something! I left a cd in my locker I really wanted to give to you… come on, let's go to my locker and get it. I think you'll really like it. It's Tchaikovsky."

"Who's that?"

"A famous composer… you know, Swan Lake?"

Timmy glanced at him expectantly.

_Wait, is this something a normal person would know? Am I really supposed to know what Swan Lake is? I must be more clueless than I first realized, Timmy must think I'm an idiot…._

"Sorry… I don't know what that is."

"Oh." Timmy glanced down awkwardly. "Listen, I'm sorry. I keep forgetting how you are so new to this whole thing, and were kept in the dark about most musical things except what you had to learn here at school…. I'm sorry if I made you feel embarrassed, I didn't mean to."

"It's ok, really. It's not your fault my dad has a music complex." They laughed as they ascended up the stairs. Hayton suddenly got a flash of deja vux. _Astley. Wasn't Astley playing on this floor? I wonder how she is, anyways…. I haven't seen her really since… when was it? Three weeks ago? Really?_

They walk up the stairs to Timmy's locker, and hear a few voices in the classroom next door.

"So, babe, I was thinking, ya know, you and me? We should, like, totally do something. I know you are feeling the hots for the Loutster."

Timmy and Hayton smirked at each other, and Hayton couldn't hold his breath. Beet red, he raised his hand to his face and let out a silent chuckle. Soon he found himself laughing so hard he couldn't breathe.

"Oh my god!" Timmy whispered. "Isn't that the kid who keeps making fun of you?"

"Yeah, Snotlout. He's my distant cousin, actually."

"Wait what? You're actually _related_ to that baffoon?"

"Crazy, right?"

"Hay, you're killing me!"

They stopped laughing long enough to slowly sneak towards the door of the classroom the voice was coming from. Glancing in, Hayton gave a small gasp.

"I _know _that girl."

"Really?" Timmy whispered. "Who is she?"

"She's…."

"Listen, Snotlout, I don't know how many times I need to tell you this." Hay's words were interrupted by the sassy venom spewing from Astley's mouth. She rolled her eyes and sighed, turning her back to him.

"I'm not into you that way, ok? I am not into _anyone_ that way, least of all you."

"Now, listen, babe, I'm sure we can…"

"I. Am. NOT. YOUR. BABE." She slammed her fist against the desk she was closest to.

"Now, I am only going to say this one more time. Leave. Me. Alone." She glanced behind her shoulder and slowly turned around, giving Snoutlout the most intimidating glare she could muster.

"Understand?"

"Sure, psssh, whatever, Babe, see ya tomorrow." He shrugged his shoulder and turned around, walking out the door. Hay and Timmy hid behind the door of the classroom next to it, and listened as Snoutlout walked past.

"I like them feisty, anyways." He muttered.

Hayton and Timmy couldn't control their laughter. They burst out like an airtight balloon that had been popped, holding their sides and their faces going beet red.

"Can…. you….. _Believe….._that?"

"I know! How…. how am I related to… to _that_!"

They chuckled a few more seconds and composed themselves, albeit barely. Finally, Timmy spun around and walked back to his locker, opening it and picking out a cd case.

"Here, Hay. I'm sure you are going to love this."

"Thanks." Hayton smiled and stuck the cd in his bag, and started to follow Timmy back down towards the stairwell. Suddenly, he heard it. That noise again. The nostalgic music, echoing from the classroom where Astley and Snotlout had been fighting. The melody was soft, calming like a mother caressing her child. There was nothing hostile in it, it's brilliance painted pictures of meadows and slow moving brooks, and grain swaying softly in the breeze. It spun a tale of peace and hope, embracing the simple beauty that life can offer.

Hayton stopped and closed his eyes, allowing his mind to become entranced by the sound. Before he knew it, he had opened his eyes and began following the sound back from where he came.

"Hay? You coming?" Timmy questioned, confusion written on his face. Hayton opened his eyes and looked back at Timmy, and then back up the stairwell.

"Do you hear that? That beautiful sound?" Timmy smiled.

"Yes, I do. You said you know that girl, right?"

"Yeah, her name is Astley." Hayton smiled, crimson red dusting his face. "Hey Timmy, what do you say we listen to her for a bit?" Timmy smiled and slowly shook his head.

"I really admire your newfound love of music, Hay, it's so amusing and inspiring. However, one thing I know is you do not want to interrupt a girl musician during practice. Especially one who just got done biting someone's head off." He smiled, as if remembering a fond memory. "I know, from personal experience."

"Oh." Hayton stared down at his shoes, suddenly feeling embarrassed and silly. He didn't think Astley was the type to chew someone out for listening to her playing. Of course, he remembered, he didn't actually _know_ much about her to begin with. Perhaps Timmy was right, after all.

"Come on." Timmy smiled encouragingly. "Let's go back to my place and practice. Later you can tell me all about her, and maybe, you can introduce me to her sometime." Hay lit up at this suggestion.

"Can I? I am so sure you will love her, Timmy! She's fantastic, just like you! I mean, her playing is fantastic… I don't really know her and all, but I'm sure if I did, I would think she was fantastic, too, and…"

"Hay. Breathe. Save that energy for practice and the walk to my place." Timmy chuckled, amused, and led Hayton out of the school and into the mid afternoon sun, Hay resuming his blubbering and childlike delight in this new girl, and the adventures he was experiencing. It was as if he had opened a whole new world, a world that, without his depression, might not have existed for him. Hayton walked down the street, elated and full of hope. Timmy walked full of inspiration and joy. This was the type of reaction he hoped to instill in his future pupils, the love of music, of learning, of life. The joy that comes with knowing that it's the little things that bring the most happiness, and the smallest sounds can be the most beautiful. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was his calling, and he couldn't wait to see what happened next.


End file.
